


Breakfast with Mablung.

by hennethgalad



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23005684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad
Summary: Finrod and Gildor have breakfast with Mablung.3: "something that happened to you today"
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: Back to Middle-earth Month 2020: Endings and Beginnings





	Breakfast with Mablung.

Finrod woke from a dream of fire and battle to the smell of frying mushrooms and the arrival of a Messenger. Gildor looked up from the fire as he stirred the mushrooms and greeted the Messenger, who slid from his horse and bowed, then opened the satchel at his side.  
"My lords, here are letters from Menegroth, two for you, my lord Finrod, and one for Gildor." He passed them the scrolls then grinned at Mablung "Your wife says to bring some of 'those' flowers." He laughed as Mablung frowned at him, blushing, and leapt back on his horse "Those mushrooms smell delicious!" and was gone.

Finrod stretched and looked about at the valley, scarcely more than a dell, in which they had set up camp. A little stream tumbled over rocks on its way down to Esgalduin, and every rock, every tree, every branch and twig was covered in thick green moss, like fine upholstery. He had been delighted, it brought to mind the rockery in the Gardens of Estë, where people slept on the moss, dreaming away their cares. But this was Doriath, not Valinor, and Gildor had insisted on hanging a groundsheet over the two fallen trees that bridged the dell, and laying two more groundsheets beneath, before even attempting to make up a bed for Finrod. But the dell was so alive, so crammed with tiny flowers and large, with fern and lily, and countless others with unknown names, that though they had not covered half the distance they had intended, he had stayed. 

"Mablung, these mushrooms are almost ready, will you make some toast?" Gildor smiled at Mablung who peeled the end of a twig and held it out to Finrod.   
"It will be quicker if we both toast." But this time Finrod blushed, and Gildor laughed  
"No, he will start thinking, and forget the toast, it is a waste of good bread."  
Mablung looked up at Finrod "Can you cook at all?"  
Finrod thought back to lessons with his careful, practical father, precisely weighing things and closely timing them, while he had danced about the kitchen asking obscure questions, spilling the flour and using clothes-herbs instead of kitchen herbs. But Gildor had both hands up in the air "No! Please... Everyone thinks they can teach him to cook, but I assure you, if it could be done, we would have done it!"  
"I don’t see why, with such patience as he has, such focus... It should be easy."  
Finrod coughed artificially "He is here, you know! But really, Mablung, I think that the focus is the problem. I forget that I'm cooking, my mind skips about..."  
Mablung turned the toast "But what do you do when you are alone?"  
Finrod turned to Gildor, who smiled "When I am called to Mandos, another will take my place, standing between Finrod and the fire!"  
"It has never happened, I have never sat alone by the hearth. But I have watched so many times that I am certain I could"  
Gildor laughed, and Mablung joined in, Finrod grinned "What? The world is vast and full of wonder, I cannot tear my eyes from this fair dell, but all the time my heart cries 'Onward!' for I know that the next valley will hold new marvels, and I would see them all! How can you ask me to turn my eyes to food?"  
"You say that now, but wait until you have tasted these mushrooms" said Gildor. Mablung passed him the toast and speared another slice. Gildor heaped the sizzling mushrooms onto the toast, sprinkled fresh herbs on top and passed the plate to Finrod, who folded down into a cross-legged position and bit into his breakfast. Mablung watched closely and saw Finrod's face soften with delight, and felt his mouth water. He turned his toast and smiled at Gildor "I suspect he can cook, really, but you are such an excellent cook that he feigns incompetence to taste more of your cooking."  
Finrod laughed "Alas, I would that it were so! But let him cook, he rarely gets the chance; the serious cooks will not let us near their precious kitchens, and you are right, Gildor is one of the best, and it is worth sleeping on damp moss to taste his mushrooms!"  
Gildor took the toast from Mablung and passed him his breakfast. "Well, I'm going to open my letter before I eat, or I shall be too worried to enjoy my own cooking."  
He opened the scroll and read it quickly, then laughed, put it aside and speared a slice of bread. Finrod swallowed and smiled at Gildor "Interesting gossip?"  
Gildor laughed again "Read your own letters!"  
Finrod raised his brows, then wolfed down the rest of his mushrooms and wiped his face and hands. The first scroll was from Orodreth in Tol Sirion, reporting all well, and confirming that Finduilas was spending all her time with Gwindor. Finrod nodded approvingly, he was a fine elf, hasty, but not unduly rash. They were a handsome couple.  
The other scroll was from Melian, inviting him to dinner in seven days. He looked up at Gildor "My aunt asks me to dine with her."  
Mablung frowned "Your aunt?"  
Finrod and Gildor looked at each other, they had been only three years in this new, old country, and still felt themselves foreign. It was clear that Mablung thought so too, and was thinking of impossible letters from Valinor.  
"Elu Thingol is known to us by a different name, to us he is Elwë, brother to Olwë, who is the grandfather of my lord Finrod. Therefore, however remarkable it may seem, that makes the lady Melian aunt to my lord."  
Mablung gaped at Finrod "My lord, forgive me... You Noldor came upon us like a sudden storm, and to find that you are kin to my lady..."  
Finrod shook his head slightly "Only by wedlock, not by blood."  
"But my lord, you are blood-kin to the lady Lúthien, and she to her mother!"  
Finrod smiled "The lady Lúthien... she has no kin, nor any peer, for beauty, for the wonder of her song and the perfection of her dance. Kin! I would that it were so! But we are merely distant cousins."  
Mablung shook his head wonderingly, but Gildor spoke "Eat your mushrooms, Mablung, they are not so pleasant cold!"   
"Gildor! Tell us, do, what was in your letter to make you laugh?"  
Gildor grinned mischievously "It was from your aunt... I am ordered to bring you before her, scrubbed and shining, in seven days time."


End file.
